


everytime I ask you/that when, how, and where

by ruthvsreality



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Crooked Exchange 2019, Dirty Talk, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthvsreality/pseuds/ruthvsreality
Summary: Tommy frowns. “Praise?” He repeats, like he’s never heard the word before.“You know, calling you good things. Saying how good you are, and stuff. Beyond just. You know, saying you’re good. Stuff along that same vein.” It sounds incredibly stupid out of context.“Is that really a kink?” Tommy glances down at the sheet. “Would someone really say no to that?”





	everytime I ask you/that when, how, and where

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Timjan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timjan/gifts).

> Remix of [Positions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603330) by Timjan.

Jon hopes this isn’t too public of a place to do it. They’re at some tiny diner near Georgetown, chowing down on grilled cheese sandwiches and fries because he and Tommy decided that it would be fun to read briefing books in a restaurant instead of in their offices. It’s not really taking the day off, but still, Jon gets a little thrill out of not being in meetings all day. He doesn’t know when they’ll get another chance to talk, though, so this will have to do, as public as it is.    
  
“Hey.” He sets down his sandwich and begins to rummage around in his bag. “Can we, uh, do this?” He pulls out his notebook and a piece of paper.    
  
Tommy finishes swallowing his food and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Yeah - you still want to do this?”   
  
Jon shrugs. “I mean… we’ve been doing it for a while, I figured… we should probably talk about it just in case something weird happens, or we get in trouble.”    
  
Tommy furrows his brow. “Like what?”    
  
“Like, I dunno, I become your boss at some point in the future, and you’re used to calling me  _ sir  _ in the bedroom. That would be weird if we continued to do that, but you called me Sir in the office, too, right?”    
  
Tommy thinks for a moment, probably picking holes in Jon’s argument the same way Jon started picking holes in it as soon as the words left his mouth. When is Jon going to be Tommy’s boss? Would he really call him Sir in that situation? And would they still be fucking during that time?    
  
As flimsy as the hypothetical is, it works for Jon’s purposes. “Yeah, okay. And if it makes you more comfortable, man, I’m here for it.”    
  
Jon smiles. “Great. So I, um -” He opens up the piece of paper. “I printed this checklist. And I was thinking we could just… go over it? And maybe I could take notes. We don’t need to go line by line or anything.” 

Tommy raises his eyebrows as Jon passes him the paper. “Whoa, you came prepared.”    
  
“I mean, I just printed it off the internet. Other than… what we’ve been doing, I don’t really know anything about BDSM.” Which is what they’re doing. If you’d told Jon in 2008 that he’d be doing BDSM stuff with Tommy Vietor, he’d have told you to lay off the caffeine, the crack, and/or pornography.    
  
“I don’t really know much about it, either,” Tommy admits, and Jon thinks,  _ thank God.  _

“But, like, you like what we’ve been doing, right?”    
  
“No, yeah, definitely.” Tommy runs a hand through his hair. “I love it, dude, don’t worry about that.”    
  
“Good. I just - didn’t want to bark up the wrong tree or something.” Jon knows that he has a tendency to take things too far sometimes, and this could be a textbook case of that. Tommy basically just wanted to be told what to do - he never explicitly asked Jon to Dom him, or whatever.

“You’re not barking up the wrong tree.” Tommy flashes him that million watt smile, signaling that Jon made the right call. “And, I mean, if I’m not comfortable, I’ll tell you. You’re my friend.”    
  
His voice stumbles over the word  _ friend;  _ it makes Jon’s face heat up, probably because that’s not a word he associates with sex all that often. Well, he didn't use to. Before.    
  
He taps his pen against the soft paper of his notebook. “Okay, so. Um… you liked calling me sir, right?”    
  
“Yeah. Are you okay with that?”    
  
“Yeah, but. I think let’s keep it at that.”    
  
Tommy grins. “‘Master’ sounds a little too Igor for my taste.”   
  
“I agree. So… likes and dislikes.” He draws a line down the middle of his pad. “What does the sheet say?”    


“Well, I’ll tell you up front that I like being naked,” Tommy says, “which is one of the things listed on here.”    
  
“Okay. What else?”    
  
“Uh, I’m okay with, um, rope, and I guess… I guess leather. I hadn’t really thought about it.” Tommy looks up. “This seems expensive.”    
  
“We don’t actually have to do all of that stuff. It’s just suggestions.” 

“Can I just say the stuff I’m into, and then we can go from there?” 

“Sure.” Jon gestures for the paper, but Tommy pulls it closer to him, almost like a security blanket. 

“I liked - I liked when you told me what to do, the other night. And I liked - do you remember a while back, when you told me to keep still?”   
  
Jon nods.    
  
“I liked that. I like being tied up, too, so I guess that’s an extension of that.”    
  
Jon writes it down and ignores how his hands are getting sweaty. This is weird and fun and exciting. 

“I like when you’re rough with me,” Tommy offers, quietly.

“Can I leave bruises?” Jon asks, and then he promptly feels his face get warm. Why did he sound so eager when he said that?    
  
“Yeah, yeah, you can - you can do that. Um, not where, you know, Axe could see, though.” Tommy nods. His face is getting red, too.    
  
“Um…” Jon spent all day thinking of things he could do with Tommy, to Tommy, for Tommy, and now that he’s here his mind is completely blank. “Can I tell you when to come, and stuff?”    
  
“Dude, everything that we’ve done so far is great. But yes.” Tommy nods. “You can do that.”    
  
Jon knows that Tommy likes when he does that, even if Tommy won’t admit it. He underlines it in his notebook.    
  
“As for things that don’t require us to buy weird shit off of Amazon…” Jon tries to read the words off of the list upside-down, “do you want me to humiliate you? Tell you you’re bad, and stuff like that?”    
  
Tommy tilts his head from side to side. “Uh, no thanks. I get enough of that at work.”    
  
Jon rolls his eyes. “No you don’t, you’re fucking brilliant.”    
  
“Alright. My point is, I’d rather not. I’m not into the whole… slut, whore type of thing.”    
  
Jon keeps writing in his notebook to distract from how hot those words sounded coming out of Tommy’s mouth. “Cool. Uh, what about praise?”    
  
Tommy frowns. “Praise?” He repeats, like he’s never heard the word before.    
  
“You know, calling you good things. Saying how good you are, and stuff. Beyond just. You know, saying you’re good. Stuff along that same vein.” It sounds incredibly stupid out of context. 

“Is that really a kink?” Tommy glances down at the sheet. “Would someone really say no to that?”    
  
“I mean, if they preferred being called a slut or a whore.” 

“That’s fair.” Tommy concedes. “Yeah, I guess you can put that down.”    
  
“Okay.” Jon writes it down and then looks up. “I’ll be honest, I think we have plenty of stuff here, and we can just talk about whatever we think of doing beforehand if it comes up.”    
  
Tommy nods. “Sounds good to me. I’m pretty much up for anything, except for, I dunno, weird stuff.” 

“Weird stuff?”    
  
“I guess I mean… really out there stuff. I don’t want you to pee on me, or anything. Though I feel like you would’ve led with that.”    
  
Jon’s eyes go comically wide. “Oh, shit, should I have led with that? I figured I could ease you into it.”    
  
Tommy gapes at him. “Are you serious?”    
  
Jon grins. “No, I’m not serious. But I had you for a second.”    
  
Tommy leans back in his chair and grins ruefully at Jon. “Don’t fuck with me like that, man.”    
  
Jon allows himself to laugh. “I had to break the tension somehow. C’mon, let’s go before Axe complains about us playing hooky.”    
  
They gather up their things, pay the check, and prepare to leave, but not before Tommy has to run back in to get the checklist.    
  
“I’d rather not leave a paper trail,” he explains. Fervently, Jon nods in agreement. 

\---

It’s four days later before they get a night where they can get home at a semi-reasonable hour. Tommy got groceries on the trip back, and they even managed to cook themselves an actual meal like real adults instead of adrenaline junkies who survive on nothing but Democratic idealism.    
  
Jon finishes washing up the dishes, and glances outside at the apartment building next door. Their windows are open, and since Jon himself opened the windows of their apartment earlier, he can hear the sound of the stereo from their living room, playing the sort of older music he knows the wife is into. Sinatra? Nat King Cole, maybe? Jon can’t pinpoint the voice.    
  
_ Y asi pasan los dias/Y yo, desesperando/Y tu, tu contestando/quizas, quizas, quizas… _

Jon doesn’t understand the words, but he finds himself drawn to the soft rhythm of the music, the way it blends with the sound of traffic from the street and the warmth of the summer air. In the window he can see the silhouettes of the couple move towards each other, the woman moving towards and away from her husband, leading him on with an outstretched hand. Dancing, maybe? Jon doesn’t know.

He finishes setting the last of the plates in the dishwasher and turns off the light to the kitchen. As he’s gathering up the jacket and tie he haphazardly tossed onto the couch, Tommy comes out.    
  
“Hey,” he says.   
  
“Hey,” Jon replies. “You okay?”    
  
“Yeah, I… Do you want to, um…” 

It takes a moment for Jon to understand what he’s asking for. But then Tommy gives him this look, this look that says all those same things Jon been thinking over and over for months now, and Jon understands.    
  
“C’mere.”    
  
Tommy walks over, and he nearly bumps his shin against the coffee table because the light isn't on, but it doesn’t matter because they’re kissing, and god _ damn,  _ is Tommy a good kisser.    
  
Tommy has clearly perfected the art of a good kiss; not too slick, just the right amount of pressure and glide. Jon breaks away to get a breath of air, and then moves back in, wrapping his arms around Tommy. It is so, so good. 

They do this for long dreamy minutes; after a while Jon feels the itch to go further. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he says, trying to sound casual.    
  
Tommy grins. “Yes,  _ sir.”  _ He replies enthusiastically.    
  
A shiver runs down Jon’s spine. He follows Tommy with a spring in his step. 

Once they get to the bedroom, there’s more kissing, this time on the bed and accompanied by unhurried undressing. The music from the other apartment is far away now, faded. Tommy’s quiet humming as he undoes Jon’s belt is much louder. 

Then they’re both naked, and the need to touch Tommy all over is overwhelming. Jon glides his hands over his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. He gets to his cock and Tommy shivers.   
  
“You like that?” Jon asks. “You want more?”    
  
“God, yes, Jon.” Tommy tilts his head back and blindly seeks out Jon’s cock, and the two of them stroke each other, aimlessly leaning into the rich, heady pleasure of it. Jon leans in and kisses the exposed column of Tommy’s throat, and then he just leans against his shoulder. They continue like that for a while, until Tommy’s breathing gets labored and Jon knows it’s time to move on if they don’t want to finish right here, in more ways than one.    
  
“Alright, uh.” God, his voice is wrecked. “Want you to suck me off.” 

Tommy nods. “I can do that. Do you want - lying down?” It’s amazing how thoroughly well fucked he looks even before they’ve gotten a chance to do anything.    
  
“I think - sitting on the edge of the bed.” Jon nods. “But kiss me more, first.”    
  
There’s more of that. More kissing, more touching. More, more, more. Jon thinks the place that gives him the courage to say whatever filth comes into his mind in front of Tommy is the same place that burns, deep inside him, whenever he’s not touching Tommy as much as physically possible.    
  
Tommy kisses his neck, his collarbones, then makes his way down his chest. He stops at his ribcage, and looks up at Jon, smiling slightly. The moon’s come out, and is shining through the window, and Jon can see Tommy’s eyelashes.   
  
“Okay, you can suck me off, now.” Jon breathes.    
  
“Yes, sir.” Tommy replies. There’s something that sounds like awe in his voice.    
  
Jon moves over to the edge of the bed, leaning back on it so Tommy can kneel between his legs. After a moment he hands Tommy a pillow so his knees don’t ache.    
  
“I got you,” Jon murmurs. Tommy smiles up at him.    
  
“I know.” And then his mouth is around him, and Jon’s eyes slide shut.    
  
It’s tempting not to speak at this point - there’s nothing but wet warmth and the suction of Tommy’s mouth on his cock, and it’s pretty fucking distracting - but Jon wants to make this good for Tommy, too. And if it’s already good for Tommy, Jon wants to make this better.

“You’re - you’re fucking great at this, Tom,” Jon says breathlessly, “you’re - you have no idea how good this feels.” He doesn’t want to lay it on too thick, but… Tommy  _ is  _ really fucking good at this. 

Tommy looks up at him with clear sky blue eyes and he’s just so goddamn earnest and beautiful that Jon has to tangle his fingers in his hair and push him down a little, slowly, not nearly fast enough to hurt him.    
  
“Like that?” He asks, both to tease and to confirm that Tommy’s cool with it. Tommy makes an enthusiastic noise and sucks harder, reaching up to squeeze the base of Jon’s cock. Jon pushes his hand away; he doesn’t want to come too soon. “Yeah,  _ yeah,  _ you fucking love it.”    
  
Jon has no idea where the words are coming from, but from Tommy’s expression, they’re working. Tommy places his hands on Jon’s thighs and slowly, deliberately sinks down until he’s taken as much of Jon as he can.    
  
“Jesus, Tommy, look at you.” Jon watches his own chest rise and fall, watches the powerful muscles in Tommy’s shoulders shift with his own breathing. “You are… fuck, you are  _ so fucking hot.”  _

Tommy pulls off, one hand squeezing Jon’s balls. He looks up at him with wide eyes, his lips shiny with spit and precome.    
  
Jon stares at him.    
  
Tommy leans back down and takes Jon back in his mouth, this time licking at the head of his cock like he’s going to win a goddamn award for it. 

Jon groans, softly, and works his hips up into Tommy’s grip. “You - you are, Tom, you’re so fucking hot, God - yes, just like that, you are so fucking sexy... Jesus, you look so good like that, taking my cock like you were made for it, God, that’s it…”   
  
Tommy closes his eyes and reaches down with one hand, gripping himself without any real finesse or nuance. Jon loves it.    
  
“That’s it, so good, I’m - I’m gonna come, fuck - make me come, Tom, gonna come -”    
  
Tommy pulls off at the last moment and Jon ends up shooting streaks of come over Tommy’s hands, chest and chin, thoroughly making a mess. He doesn’t care. Tommy looks fucking hot, eyes blazing with heat, face flushed with exertion. He continues stroking Jon’s cock until every last drop of come is squeezed out of him, and then immediately pushes back so he’s on the floor, jerking off, desperate and entirely without shame.    
  
“C’mere,” Jon can barely breathe much less speak but he mumbles anyway. “C’mere, lean - lean against me.”    
  
Without taking his hand off his cock, Tommy moves forward so he’s kneeling again, his forehead resting against Jon’s knee. Jon can hear his breathing, quick, tight gasps of air as he strokes himself.    
  
“You’re gorgeous,” Jon says, and means it. “You’re so fucking _beautiful_, you’re so pretty, so smart, you always do so well for me, Tommy, c’mon, come for me, sweetheart, go on, come -”    
  
Tommy gasps, loud, and comes with a roar, like something’s been torn out of him. He wobbles, and collapses back on his ass, come dripping all over his fist and onto the floor. Jon just watches, mesmerized.    
  
Tommy stares up at him, eyes wide, struggling to catch his breath.    
  
“Don’t - fuck, don’t  _ do  _ that,” he says.

Wait, what?   
  
Jon blinks down at him. Tommy’s still trying to catch his breath.    
  
“Oh my  _ God,”  _ Tommy says. Jon watches him come back to himself. It takes a minute or two.    
  
After what seems like an eternity, Tommy blinks and looks back up at Jon. With wobbly legs, he stands, and goes to grab the tissues. He begins to clean himself off with shaking hands.    
  
“That was… really fucking good,” Tommy says, “but - don’t do that last part again - please,” he adds as an afterthought.    
  
Jon is still dazed from his own orgasm and seeing Tommy’s, so he responds with the first thing that comes to mind. “But - you came really hard.”    
  
“Jon?” Tommy says. He’s still breathing heavily. “I mean it. It’s just - too much, you know?”   
  
Jon doesn’t know. But he nods anyway. It’s such a rapid departure from thirty seconds ago that Jon doesn’t even know how to process it. But he does know that Tommy’s using his ‘drop the subject’ voice, so Jon obediently does so.    
  
Tommy hands Jon a bunch of tissues and leans in to kiss him, soft and sweet. “That was really fucking good, though.” He says.    
  
There’s warmth in his voice that means Jon isn’t in trouble. He allows himself to get wrapped up in it and kisses Tommy back, hoping to convey the same warmth.    
  
“Do you want to go take a shower?” Tommy asks. “You kind of… came all over me.” 

Jon grins. “I did do that, didn’t I?”

Tommy helps pull him to his feet and they make their way to the bathroom.    


Later, after messes have been cleaned up and they’re in their respective pajamas (t-shirt and boxers for Jon, nothing for Tommy), Jon has taken up his regular position of being awake while Tommy is asleep with his head on Jon’s chest.    
  
Why did Tommy react that way? You’d think coming really fucking hard would be motivation to do something  _ more,  _ not less. But no, Jon had called him a few nice things and said  _ sweetheart  _ and Tommy had banned it from the bedroom. It obviously wasn’t something Tommy knew about beforehand, otherwise he would’ve mentioned it. 

Jon isn’t going to push it, of course; Tommy’s limits are Tommy’s limits and he’s not about to ruin what might be the best sex he’s ever had, with his best friend who basically shares his brain. But that doesn’t mean he won’t think about it. 

Jon closes his eyes, and thinks about Tommy’s smile, and the couple in the building next door, and words to a song that he doesn’t understand.    


**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from Quizas, Quizas, Quizas, by Nat King Cole. Aka the sexiest song of all time.
> 
> Many, many thanks to @fizzy for betaing this for me.


End file.
